


I'm Not A Hopeless Cause

by Hiraeth_xxx



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig is hades, It doesn't exactly follow the legend, M/M, Persephone AU, Style is there too, Tweek is persephone, Very fluffy, cartman is a dick as usual, very cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:32:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiraeth_xxx/pseuds/Hiraeth_xxx
Summary: Tweek, the god of flowers and spring, longs for the day he can fulfill his role and create a truly beautiful flower without fucking it up. On the other hand, all Craig wants is to finally be able to touch something without it wasting away in his palm. Perhaps those lost can find their strength together.





	1. Nothing Stays

Malformed flowers pushed up, breaching the dark soil as the young god traced his fingers over the earth. A sigh of discontent slipped past his lips as he laid his head down across a slab of rock, glaring at the twisted weeds springing up over his body.

“That’s…. You’re getting there. Not too long from now, you’ll be a master,” Token, his guardian, hummed as he cradled a one of the flowers in his palm. It’s petals were all odd triangle shape, and the colors were bland, lacking the vibrancy of Token’s flowers. Dropping the atrocity, the god of harvest looked over to Tweek, who continued to stare at the ground with disinterest, already wanting to end the afternoon lesson. Not wishing to stress out the god to the point where his confidence fell to an all time low, Token sat down on the ground.

“That’s all for the day.” Tweek slowly began to sit up, eyes still locked on his disfigured creations.

“I’ll never be, gah, able to make them l-like yours,” Tweek mumbled quietly, but it didn’t escape Token’s ears. The god remained silent, fingers brushing over the flowers. Slowly, they began to wither and disintegrate into the soil. Tweek stood and took off from the meadow. There wasn’t anything left to be said.

Tweek had heard it all before about always practicing and never straying too far from home, that there were dangerous things out there that he couldn’t handle. The warnings were heeded for the most part, but after a particularly hard session they were afterthoughts of Tweek’s sudden excursions to the deepest areas of the woods that surrounded Token’s fields.

He knew the woods like the back of his hand, or at least, he knew the first mile well. Everything after that was twisting and terrified him, having spent more nights than he wanted in those woods when he couldn’t find his way out.

Today, however, he was feeling adventurous, mainly because he wanted to be away from his guardians prying gaze so he could make more of his flowers with his own free will. Tweek knew they weren’t pretty or admirable, but that didn’t stop him from filling the woods with them. No one ever ventured deep into the woods, not even the stupidest mortals.

Tweek ran through the woods, dodging as many hanging branches and fallen trees as he could so he didn’t hurt himself. The hardest part of growing his flowers was finding somewhere to grow them. He always would sneak out a quiet area, preferably open or dead so he didn’t disturb other plants.

Usually, the task would take hours, but the first moment Tweek stopped to catch his breath, he spotted a glade he didn’t recognize. He must have gone farther than he expected. He headed over to the clearing and scanned over the area. The area was on an incline, reaching just over the line of some surrounding tree tops. What really caught Tweek’s eyes though was a dark, soot like substance covering the hill top, like a fire had spread only to the hill and didn’t travel any further before dying out.

“Hello?” Tweek called, only realizing how stupid that was after it escaped his quivering lip. He trekked up the side of the hill, hesitantly letting his bare foot touch the charred ground. It didn’t burn, so he continued until he reached the top of the hill. From there, surprisingly, he could see hills rolling in the distance, man-made temples for gods standing tall under the sun and even a small village. A smile made its way to his face as he held the edges of his white robes, kneeling down to the ground.

With the beautiful view, Tweek felt inspired enough to begin his work. Touching the ground, grass began to grow. It took a while and a bit of energy, but soon enough the hill was lively again.

“Here beats nothing,” Holding a shaking hand above one spot before him, he concentrated as much as he could on sprouting a flower, “C’mon… Please… Just like Token’s, a pretty rose! A tiger lily! Something!”

He squeezed his eyes closed tightly, praying that his work would pay off. When he felt a soft petal scrape his palm, he finally opened his eyes. Below his hand was a bright red flower, its petals rumpled and leaves protruding upside down. It wasn’t any flower he knew of. Tweek’s shoulders slumped, a heavy sigh following after.  
It was going to be a long afternoon.

 

Shadows warped under his feet, dispersing as soon as the young man opened his eyes. Though he was dressed in black and navy heavy robes, the man stood as straight as a soldier, staring ahead of him with a bland look that could be easily mistaken as coldness.

He took a step forward, walking past the tree line to his clearing. He didn’t make a single sound as he strided up the hill, immediately his eyes catching the green grass growing where he usually sat. They narrowed at the sight, but the man didn’t waver as he reached the top of the hill.

Unrecognizable flowers surrounded him, each either an off-putting color or an obnoxiously bright hue. The god hesitantly tugged down a small cloth covering half of his face, taking a deep breath. Even the smell of the flowers was different in a way he couldn’t describe. As he exhaled, he could see the cold air leaving him, though it was spring.

He’d been in the area many times, but never had he found proof of others coming. Still, he felt as though he was alone. With that, he sat down in the middle of the flowers and pulled off his hood, running a gloved hand through his thick black hair. There sat the poorly disguised god of death, Craig. If his easily noticeable traits weren’t enough to prove his origin, the flowers and grass around him began to wither. Knowing the effort to keep them from expiring was futile, he slipped off his gloves and cradled a flower as lightly as he could. As he expected, yet much to his dismay, it died.

With an angry huff, the god threw the flower to the side and picked up another one. He continued relentlessly until the sun began to fall and the shadows consumed him.

 

Few things annoyed Tweek, but he usually would brush it off after a few minutes. He was used to Token messing with his flowers, but never had he went searching the woods to destroy them. No, the hill hadn’t been the work of his guardian. What was once teeming with the life he filled now was charred and blackened again. All his work was destroyed and part of him wished he stayed there to protect it and hadn’t come home once he heard Token’s call through the leaves.

“How could this have happened?” Tweek mumbled to himself as he stomped up the hill, using his anger to erratically sprout twisting vines blooming all around him, crawling up his legs as well. Puke green flowers spread through the dirt as he seethed, not relenting until the black was back to green and flowers were everywhere. Touching his hand to the earth, a coiling black flower sprouted, all his anger now being formed into the flowers.

“C’mon!” Tweek shrieked, slamming his fist to the grass, “B-Be a pretty pink, something!”

Alas, his pleads fell on deaf ears and more ugly, strange flowers grew. Eventually, Tweek managed to control himself, now seeing the mess of flowers covering the hill. There were twice as many than before, and with a satisfied huff, Tweek began to head off, hoping that this time the perpetrator would stay away.


	2. The Job of a God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tweek remains frustrated, Craig continues to think of the hill, and Kyle can not be trusted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments, I enjoyed reading them. I hope you all like this chapter. The first chapter was just an intro, the actual depth and real problems begin to arise here on out. Nothing is peaceful in the myths of Greek gods, nothing will be different here. Hope you like the chapter.

Craig’s footsteps echoed down the cavernous caves, alerting any possible soul of his location. Not that he had much to be worried over in his own domain. The god walked down in silence, heading to his throne room when he suddenly stopped in his tracks. Something didn’t feel right. 

Not one to waver long, the god continued on his path. Once he was close enough to his throne room, he could hear a voice clearly, mumbling to themselves and pacing along the obsidian floors. With a long sigh, Craig threw open the doors, not bothering to cast a glance to the guest. Not that he really had a chance to get away from him, the red haired god quickly stepping in front of him, stopping him in his tracks. 

“Where were you?” Kyle asked with a huff, a quill and a piece of parchment paper clutched to his chest. Craig glanced aside and shrugged. The god didn’t look amused, eyebrows furrowing as he stared back intensely, waiting for his answer.

“Collecting souls,” Craig lied, but Kyle didn’t seem to care.

“This is the third time you’ve been avoiding me,” Kyle reminded him, foot tapping on the ground impatiently, “I need to get this all sorted out before any of us can move forward and as, you know, the king of the underworld, I need you to listen.”

“Go ahead.” Though he didn’t sound the slightest bit interested, Kyle began to rant off all that he needed to say.

“Well, first off, Cartman wants to increase the strength of our weapons and wants us to be prepared with extra. I will be delivering this list to Stan to make, and I will be overseeing all of the work to make sure everything goes according to plan. We discussed this at the last meeting, which you skipped. Try that again and I’ll drag you back up Olympus…. Lastly, I need to know if you can provide anything to help make the weapons.”

Craig assumed that question was coming. He ruled the underworld, yes, but he also owned all of earth's treasures and many hidden secrets that the gods were weary of. With a shrug, Craig moved past the shorter god and sat down in his chair, “Have Stan come by and I’ll provide him with the necessary materials… but only for a few orders.”

Kyle jotted something down, “And what will you be requesting?”

“Whatever works.”

“Craig-”

“A sword,” He grunted, “any material works. A few knives. Done. Anything else?”

Kyle frowned at the edge in Craig’s voice, but for a man who lived for eternity in a place of death, he let it go. Had it been any other god, he’d spout off another rant. Instead, with a huff, he turned on his heel, “No. Goodbye.”

He felt so good to finally be alone.

 

Token noticed Tweek’s reluctance to start their lesson today. He’d lazily graze his fingers over the ground hopelessly, putting in no effort towards his creation. In return, the flower was fragile. It only took one soft gust of wind to break off half with petals. 

“Something is on your mind,” Token finally stated after a few minutes of trying to guide a barely responsive Tweek. The boy only nodded.

“I’m never going to be as good as you are,” Tweek sighed, “Am I even meant to be a god of spring and flowers? Maybe I’m not meant to be a god, like there was some kind of mistake.”

“You are overthinking, focus on your lesson,” His guardian urged quietly. Eyes falling, Tweek continued his lesson half heartedly, quietly wondering what would become of his flowers on the hill. He’d visit them when he had the chance.

 

The hill had flowers again. There wasn’t a single trace of him being there. Craig quickly walked up the hill and examined the plants. This time, they were mainly blooming from vines which tangled his feet as he waded through them. Among the flowers was a single black one, looking like a crossbreed of a gardenia and a lily. Slipping off his gloves, Craig took the flower in his hands, a small smile making its way to his lips as he did.

For no reason, he felt as though it was made from him. It was the only dark one and by far the most unique looking one. In fact, despite it looking a bit wacky, it had an odd charm to it. The smell it emitted was like lemons, which wasn’t as strange as it seemed. 

He snapped out of his mind after a few moments of quiet, eyes widening as he realised what he was doing. He was holding the flower and it hadn’t died. A soft gasp left his lips, but as soon as his chest began to tighten from the held in breath, the flower curled in on itself and died. 

Craig stared at the flower in his hands, “You too…”

He set it down on the ground, sitting beside it as he gazed off toward the human village in the distance. Mindlessly, Craig began to pick up more flowers, throwing them aside as soon as they were sucked of all their life. He watched as the mortals went about their lives, moving every so often to touch more flowers until the hill was once again barren and blackened from him staying there too long. Silently hoping to come to back and find the hill rejuvenated once again, he slipped back into the shadows. Enveloped by inky darkness, he waited patiently, the tendrils of the shadows coldly brushing him every so often until they dispersed and he was back in the underworld.

Placed on a small table by an empty vase was a small, folded paper. He unraveled it, glaring at the sheet with disinterest. It was only a small note from Stan, obviously delivered and written by Butters. No one except Kyle could rival the neatness of Butters cursive.

‘Can’t leave. Butters will send materials list. Need soon. - Stan’.

“Of course,” Craig mumbled to himself and crumpled the note. He glanced back down to the table where another note lay that he didn’t notice at first. It was likely the materials list. 

Flipping the note open, he gazed over the list. As he read through the request, he reached up to touch a stalactite, some ink like residue staining his pale finger. He dotted a spot near a few names, which over the years was interpreted as a ‘yes’ by Kyle. He only ever offered things to those he respected, tolerated, or liked. It was rare for it to be the third reason, especially with the list he was given. 

He dotted Kyle and Stan immediately, wanting to make sure they would be off his ass after this for a bit. He didn’t even consider dotting Cartman, since he was a jackass and had enough power up at Olympus anyway. It surprised him Kenny wanted a weapon, since he rarely ever requested for one, but Craig dotted his name as well, along with Clyde’s and Butter’s. Folding the note backup, Craig set it back down where he had found it, reviewing the names in his head.

Seeing Kenny’s name was a surprise, but a few names on the list were also off. Wendy, the goddess of beauty, had asked for higher class weapons. He didn’t mark her name since Craig didn’t care much for her, but it was still weird to him. She always seemed to want to keep the peace, not arm herself for possible attacks. But not only that, the god of harvest, Token, had asked for more things than anyone else. 

Token and Craig didn’t get along well. It was to be assumed so, since he was the one to destroy all his hard work once winter was called for. Even then, they didn’t hate each other as much as other people. Craig had considered helping him out, but decided against it. It was slightly off-putting to see how much the man, another one of the peacemakers in the group, wanted weapons. 

If he could recall, Token wanted a short sword, a staff, a bow and a quiver of arrows, six daggers and a hatchet or two. Not even Craig needed so many weapons and he ruled one of the three domains. With only a sword and a knife, he felt more than safe. 

He attempted to brush off the odd behavior, chalking it up as nerves, though the god was among the 12 on the council, therefore getting this offer in the first place along with having the other 11 gods ready for almost any scenario.

Speaking of weaponry, he wondered how the subject even got started in the meeting. If he attended, he would have known, but he had a feeling actually going there wasn’t worth it. Everyone just yelled over each other and there was rarely any peace unless someone managed to catch the others attention or Karen started crying. God forbid he ever be around when Karen cries again because Kenny went awol. It was all a blur for Craig, always one to be rather passive during the meetings. He was sure someone got socked in the jaw at that meeting.

A soft smile made its way to his face at the memory of seeing the usual happy-go-lucky wine god finally snap and show why others like Craig tended to tread carefully around him. Suddenly he wasn’t sure if he should have supplied for Kenny, but it was too late to change anything. 

He strided along the dark cavernous halls, aiming to walk around aimlessly for a while. Slowly, the hill popped into his head again. He had only just been there, but he wanted to go back. Would there even be flowers there if he went back so soon? What if they never grew back there? He sighed quietly and ran a hand through his hair, knowing full well it was his fault if he ruined the soil so much, life could never grow again. 

 

“WHY?” Tweek screeched as he stumbled up the hill, seeing that, just like before, the ground was destroyed. Not a single flower was left. Trying to calm his breaths, he plopped down on the ground and began working to regrow his garden. He was getting to his limit. It definitely wasn’t Token since he was with him until he came back to check on it for the second time that day. But if it wasn’t his guardian, who could it have been? It obviously someone who didn’t like his flowers, that was for sure. 

Tweek made quick work of covering one side of the hill, making sure to cake it with as many flowers as he could. It smelt terrible with all the clashing scents, but he didn’t stop. Walking over to the other side of the hill, he started growing flowers there, not looking back at his work. And because of this, he didn’t notice the ball of shadows swirl at the bottom of the other side of the hill, Craig stepping out to see only a hill full of flowers.

 

Kyle sat by the fire, fiddling with an empty cup in his hands. Stan was across the room, staring at the list of weapons requested before him, trying to calculate how much he could do with what he had in his workshop. Sighing to himself, he rested his forehead across his desk, the wood splintering under his arms that were propped on the table as well. He was used to the dull pain and welcomed it. 

Once Kyle thought the tea was warm enough, he poured it into the two cups he took out from the cupboard earlier. He carried them over to the workstation and set one down by Stan, hoping the gentle taste of jasmine would soothe him. 

“Thank you,” Stan grunted upon looking up to see the cup. He held the china delicately in his calloused hands as Kyle rested a hand on his shoulder, taking a sip of his own tea.

“Do you need help with anything?” Kyle asked, glancing over the paper.

“... You are kinda the one with the brains and all… Is this just Cartman being an idiot when he says urgently, or is there really not a deadline?” Stan looked over his shoulder at his friend. His eyes were still looking down at the sheet in a near cold fashion, but Kyle relaxed once he realized he was being watched. 

Kyle took another sip before mumbling over the rim of his cup, “There may be reason for worry, I feel. Or maybe Cartman is planting ideas in my head. I can’t trust that one as far as I can throw him.”

Stan laughed at the comment. Though Kyle has been Cartman’s right hand man and titled the god of war, he had a small build and even Karen looked scarier. That was, until he got set off, which was easy to do if a god wasn’t careful. And although he found it funny, there was a break in his laugh at one point when it dawned upon Stan what the other had said. In Kyle’s book, there was a probability. Quickly, he stood, Kyle’s hand falling off his shoulder. 

“What do you mean?” Stan waited with bated breath for his answer. Kyle only stared straight ahead to his chest, shrugging halfheartedly as he got lost in thought. He always did this when he was trying to read the future. It was a skill only he had, though admittedly he hated doing it. He explained to Stan before that vision come and go and he’d freeze in time, living the event in his head, unable to move in their dimension until it cut off. Not only that, but the visions were too cryptic to fully piece together.

Finally, light returned to Kyle’s eyes, but he remained calm, “A god will rebel.”

“Who?” 

Another shrug. Stan frowned at the indifference, “If you know who, you might want to spill. This is serious.”

Yet another problem with being able to tell the future, Kyle didn’t seem the same after entering a vision, still fighting to regain full control over his mind in the present and needing the energy to do so. 

Kyle turned around and headed back to the fire, sitting down with his cup in his lap. All was quiet except for the crackling of the fire. Stan walked over slowly, wishing he knew a way to urge his best friend into speaking, but he knew that if the other wanted to speak, he would. If not, then the secret would be kept and he couldn’t do shit except possibly anger the hot headed god. 

Stan walked over, dropping a hand in Kyle’s hair and messing it up in the process. Not that it ever really was tamed. The action caused a small flicker of a smile to pass Kyle’s lips and he glanced up reluctantly, “I’m not telling, it doesn’t seem to be completely clear to me”

It seemed like the topic would be dropped there, but after a few moments, Kyle spoke again. Stan wished he hadn’t.

“I’d like to think it’s apparent I am not on Cartman’s side wholeheartedly,” He looked up to the god of forgery, “and it’s about time there’s a new king of gods.”

“Like who?” Stan tried, but was met with silence. “You still aren’t going to tell me. Even after saying such a thing. Words can be perceived as an act of treason, you know. What, do you think I won’t report this?”

“Exactly my thoughts actually.”

Stan finally let out a sigh, asking the most important question he could muster, “So, if a war breaks out, you are going to betray us all?”

When he was met with silence, Stan headed back to his work bench and began reviewing plans again. The crackling of the fire grew louder, but the room was cold. There should never be a time where two friends feel so detached and lonesome whilst sitting in the same room. Stan lifted a piece of lead and began to sketch basic designs to the weapons, dragging his pencil over the pages with a small frown on his lips. Finally, he breathed out a quiet reassurance, a promise to himself and his dear friend, “... I’m not going to say anything to the other gods.”

“I know.”


	3. Two Souls

Tweek forced flowers up and into full bloom as fast as he could. The sun was nearly down and he wanted to make it home before dark as to not worry his guardian. Finally, flowers were everywhere. Not a single inch didn’t have a flower or vine or leaf.

“Hah!” Tweek huffed, proudly gazing upon his work before he got an idea to climb to the top and look down at the entirety of his work. Excitedly, the god rushed to the peak, peering over at the other side. Immediately, all happiness he felt was replaced with anger. 

The other side of the hill, at least half of it, was black and dead, and in the center sat a man who was covered head to toe in dark clothes, only his hands and half of his face exposed. He was deathly pale, but Tweek didn’t bother to pause or call out to the man. In his frustrated, Tweek screeched loudly and bounded down the hill, tackling the man who was already sitting on the ground. At the last second, the man looked up, dark eyes widening in shock as he saw the other flying towards him and eventually colliding into him. 

The man below him grunted in surprise, being knocked onto his back by the smaller god. Tweek sat up quickly, slightly dizzy from impact, but he managed to shriek out, “W-Who are you?”

Quickly, the man scooted away, getting to his feet as fast as he could muster. His eyes were still wide with shock, but he didn’t make any move to run. In fact, he seemed to be waiting for the other. Tweek stumbled to his feet, waving off his stinging knees. Standing as straight as he could, though the man had a good half foot on him, he jammed a finger at the mans chest, glaring, “W-What do you think you are doing?” 

The man spoke quietly behind the cloth, but the god only heard a deep rumble. In annoyance, Tweek reached up and ripped the garb off the man's head, exposing his face fully in the process. Immediately, his cheeks burned. He was good looking for a plant murderer. He was so pale, his nose slightly tinted blue, and his eyes were dark blue and seemed to sparkle in the sunset like the stars at night. Tweek tried to regroup himself as the man spoke again, his voice still low, carefully picking his words one at a time.

“You are the one who made the flowers,” He spoke, eyes drifting downward. Tweek followed his gaze to see that flowers began growing with a bright red hue beneath his feet with a bit of black mixed in. Never had they sprouted so effortlessly around him and it scared Tweek. This time he wasn’t alone, but with a complete stranger, one who wouldn’t be as kind as Token would, no doubt. These flowers were bizarre, ugly and repulsive. Nothing worthy of gracing the land.

“They are beautiful, unlike any I’ve ever seen in my life,” The man replied, tugging the cloth on his neck, “I’m… sorry I keep destroying them.”

Tweek swallowed dryly, “T-Then why do you?”

“I can’t help it.” With that, the man stepped back and reached into his pockets to put on his gloves. “If you wish, I won’t come back here. I didn’t mean any disrespect-”

Tweek reached forward, desperately grabbing a clump of the dark cloth covering the man to keep him from leaving, “No!”

Both of them jumped at the volume, but Tweek recovered first and finished his sentence, “I mean, if you like the flowers, t-then you are welcome.” 

The man nodded slowly, no longer making any attempt to put his gloves on. Tweek let out a shaky, nervous breath and he tugged the fabric in his fist. The man stepped forward to follow the motion after a slight hesitation. The two made their way up the hill where they both sat a foot away. Tweek let go of the cloth upon noticing the ground below his guest turning black. Biting his lip, Tweek focused his energy, laying his palm to the ground. Flowers began to grow around the two once again, the man looking at them in amazement as they sprouted from the god. 

“Who are you?”

“Uh, my name is Tweek. G-God of spring and flowers… kind of.” Tweek looked off to the side as he lamely stated his title. He had a feeling the god would only laugh and say something along the lines of “No, but really, who are you?”.

Instead, the man only nodded very seriously, “I am Craig. Pleased to meet you.”

They sat in silence. It was mainly because Tweek was trying hard to make keep things alive. Meanwhile, the man distracted himself by dragging his fingers over the flowers cautiously, a chilly breath escaping his lips when he did. Tweek was almost worried about Craig. The way he would reach out and cradle his flowers was as if he was caring for a baby bird that had fallen from its nest was unlike anything he ever witnessed. Not even Token walked on eggshells around his flowers like Craig was doing. Despite their looks, Craig never wrinkled his nose in disgust or ordered for him to make a certain flower. It made Tweek smile.

There was definitely something about Craig that was off, but as a first friend to Tweek, he didn’t think he’d mind. In fact, Tweek couldn’t help but be proud someone finally admired his work. 

After a long silence, Tweek heard the faintest call of his name through the trees and he glanced over to the mesmerized male beside him, “I’m sorry, I have to go now… But I will come and leave more flowers for you if you want, Craig.”

“I’d like… if you would be here too,” was Craig’s response. He stood with the young god and looked around at the flowers. 

“Oh uh-” Tweek began, but the man had already turned and began heading into the woods. Within seconds, he was surrounded by shadows and disappeared. Tweek waited a few moments, then began to take off towards home. He hoped he hadn’t worried Token, but his thoughts slowly drifted and stayed fixated on the cold god that he had shared his late evening with. 

 

Tweek hadn’t ever been so eager to do his daily lesson with Token. The older god noticed his enthusiasm right away, chuckling to himself as Tweek practically dragged him out to the middle of the field. Eventually freeing his hand from the young god, Token asked, “Now, what has gotten you so excitable today?”

“Nothing,” The blonde replied, combing his hair back with his fingers. In actuality, that nothing was what made his whole day worthwhile. The thought of going back to the hill and performing for Craig was exhilarating. He was the only one who thought his flowers were beautiful. He said that exact word too! Tweek felt faint, dizzying himself with all his happiness he couldn’t drag out into words without rambling or telling Token every detail. So, instead the lame response he stated was born. It was nothing, yet it meant everything to him.

“Nothing, huh?” Token seemed to understand, brushing it aside in place of prying. Tweek has always been good, a little secret or two didn’t worry him in the slightest. No, he was pretty happy himself. “What would you like to work on today?”

And so the two went to work, conjuring up flower after flower until Token was winded and wanted to rest before returning to work. Tweek, filled with energy, bounced on his heels as he waited for his guardian to dismiss him. 

The older god put a hand up, breathing out a calm breath before the flowers all conjured by Tweek began to disappear. Tweek bit his lip, “Wait!”  
Token didn’t stop until the field was cleared, sun beating down on them intensely, “They had to go. They aren’t ready to survive out here, you know that. Besides, we need space to practice.”

Tweek knew that his guardian was right, but the word of his new friend echoed in his mind. His flowers were beautiful. Maybe not beautiful compared to Token’s, or pretty much anyone else who could create them, but they weren’t as horrible as he thought…. Right? Token waved off Tweek after a minute of wait and watched his son, now wearing a puzzled expression on his face, as he headed into the woods. 

“He wouldn’t lie… right? He doesn’t look like a liar. Then again, one who covers his face isn’t usually the trustworthy kind, no matter what he looks like beneath...” Tweek muttered to himself, brow creasing as he kicked a rock. With or without his hood, Craig didn’t look friendly, or the kind that many wanted to get to know. He was strange, but upon looking in his deep, dark eyes… He felt as though he could trust him. 

Tweek didn’t meet other gods often. He knew his guardian, Kyle, Butters and Cartman. They weren’t like Craig. Kyle was a little uptight, always rushing to do things and do them efficiently. He used to look after Tweek whenever Token needed to leave for a few days. Then there was Butters and there was no accurate way to describe that flighty god except possibly a few screws short in the head. Lastly, Cartman, king of gods. He was a dick who infuriated Token beyond words on multiple occasions. 

Craig never told him what type of god he was, right? Tweek flushed with embarrassment, hoping he hadn’t been distracted and simply didn’t hear the god. It was best to play it safe. If things died around Craig in times where he was calm, then he’d hate to see him infuriated. 

The flower god strode through the forest, traveling down vague hints of paths until he got to the hill, where Craig was already waiting. His dark robes covered nearly all his body again, shielding him from the sun as he sat hunched over, a small flower in his gloved hand. Tweek smiled faintly, feeling on top of the world once again. Crafting a flower from his hand, he combed through his hair and stuck it behind his ear, hoping to look his part as he walked over, trying to contain his bubbling excitement. 

Craig looked up briefly as Tweek stood before him, guiding himself to the ground. The boy kneeled down, touching one palm to the earth. With a surge of his energy, he made flowers burst up before the two of them, vines crawling onto Craig’s robes and flowers blooming all around him. The silent god smiled a little.

“Isn’t it wonderful?” Tweek giddily sitting up straighter before placing both hands down and springing forth more flowers, nearly caking them both in their rumpled petals and way too sweet odor. Craig didn’t respond, his eyes darting around to examine the flowers. It didn’t sit well with Tweek and he glanced back to the others eyes, catching them as Craig was scanning the burst of life, “Do you like them?”

“They are charming,” Craig replied quietly, withdrawing his hands and setting them on his lap. Tweek beamed at the praise, taking his palms off the earth to push a strand of hair away from his face. They sat quietly, Tweek regenerating the earth every now and then to keep everything from dying too quickly. In the meantime, he plucked the flowers away from Craig and begun to weave the stems together. Within twenty minutes of relative silence, Tweek held up a crown of flowers, crooked and weak, but still very colorful. Chewing the inside of his cheek, he began to make his way back to the other god.

Craig was jolted from his reverie as two small hands pushed a ring of flowers to his face. He nearly jumped, but once he realized it was an offering, he slowly put it in his gloved hands and stared.

“You put it on, see?” Tweek took the crown and putting it on his head as an example. Craig, not very thrilled with the idea of wearing the colors he was admiring, removed his hood and set the crown down on his head. Tweek seemed proud he got the stoic god to comply, but the smile faded as he noticed that the flowers began to degrade rapidly, many wilting and petals falling off once Craig moved his hands away. He noticed to, watching with a vacant stare as petals fell past his nose and to the ground. 

It was strange how quickly things shifted after that. The ground beneath the god immediately blackened darker than it had ever been that day despite Tweek’s energy. He could see the pale gods fist clench and jaw twitch, but before he could do anything, Tweek leaped over, falling ungracefully before the god, both hands managing to land in his hair. Scrambling up to sit less than a foot away, Tweek focused his energy and pushed it into the flowers on Craig’s head. He didn’t know how to make them healthy again, but he could stop the process from going so fast. 

Moments past and nothing. Tweek’s eyes were pressed shut tightly, exerting all his energy into keeping the flowers from dying. He only let go, hands jolting from the other when his strength was, for the most part, gone. The only thing he could think of in his tired brain was ‘wow, his hair is soft’, but he didn’t dare voice it. Not when Craig looked so strangely at him, eyes wider than when they met.

With lightning fast ability, Craig snatched Tweek’s hands in his and examined them. They were the same as always, tanned and dirty, “Don’t touch me again.”

“I-I’m sorry! Ah- I mean, I didn’t…” Tweek wasn’t really good with his words ever, but at this time he felt like he was a dunce. Craig looked away, back down to the flowers before he stood. He began to walk to the woods, Tweek feeling panic rising in his gut. Did he just scare off his friend? Would he ever come back?

“H-Hey!” Tweek called after him, cupping his hands over the sides of his mouth. Craig stopped at the edge of the woods, but didn’t turn. Tweek took that as he was indeed listening, so he called back, “I… erm, want to s-show you something tomorrow!”

With that, Craig went deeper into the woods and Tweek was left to wonder what he’d show him.

 

“I don’t have enough,” Stan sighed as he placed a hand to his forehead, trying to soothe his oncoming headache. Wendy, who was standing in the door of his work shop, ceased combing her long hair for a single moment to glance over to her betrothed. With a frown, she stepped into the shop, recoiling when the smoky air hit her. Wendy headed back to the door.

“Tell Cartman it is too much then.” 

“I can’t just waltz up Mount Olympus and say that the god of blacksmiths can’t make a few measly weapons!” Stan argued, banging his fist on his crafting table. Wendy wrinkled her nose, huffing under her breath. 

They had only met two months ago, when Cartman randomly decided that they needed to be married, limiting Wendy from her flirtations. The relationship wasn’t a happy one, that much was evident. Neither loved each other, though Stan tried to make it work. Wendy was a free spirit nonetheless and rarely ever indulged in a chat with him.

“It’s not my problem you can’t do the job.” She was harsh on him. That was to be expected, but Stan couldn’t stop his gaze from lowering to the ground. His shoulders sagged underneath the weight of the words. Wendy turned and exited the workshop, likely off to go be swooned over by other gods who knew they couldn’t touch her. 

To be married to such a god as one who spent his days holed up in a musky workshop was revolting. It wasn’t fair. For her beauty and grace, she could woo even the most level headed of gods. But no, she was stuck with possibly the worst of them all besides Craig. Great. She couldn’t even fathom being the queen of the underworld, but it may be better than being the wife of a hermit.

“Stan, I brought you something to eat,” A voice called softly, echoing off the walls of the room. Stan turned toward the door to see that in place of his soon to be wife was his best friend, Kyle, holding a basket in his hands, “I know you get too absorbed in your work sometimes, so I thought I’d come by and check on your progress and, well, feed you.”

As if on cue, Stan’s stomach growled and Kyle laughed to himself, heading into the room. He didn’t flinch at the sooty air or the heat, having become accustomed to the familiar environment. The blacksmith god headed to the small table he had in his shop for meals and begun to clean it off as quickly as he could. By the time Kyle reached him, the surface was cleaned off of tools, but likely not dust. 

Kyle set the basket down on a wooden crate nearby and took out a black cloth. He placed it on the table, then set out the food he brought. The table soon had ambrosia, olives, figs and bread spread out all along the cloth as well with a bottle of wine. 

Stan smiled at the sight and wiped his hands on his apron, retrieving two goblets from his cupboard. He set them down as Kyle poured the wine, “I saw Wendy just now.”  
“She stopped by for only a moment.”

“She didn’t look happy,” Kyle added, setting the bottle aside for a moment as he took a seat at the table, Stan slipping into the one beside him, grabbing a fig. He didn’t bother to respond, beginning to eat his meal in silence. Kyle sipped his wine quietly, watching as Stan ate carefully, “It seems miserable.”

“It doesn’t seem, it is. I don’t know what Cartman was thinking. Why couldn’t he just take her? She hates me. She has hated me since we first met and this all happened.” Stan wolfed down a bread roll. 

“You both are victims of circumstance,” Kyle mumbled dryly, glancing to the work table across the room. Seeing only messily written drafts and other documents, he didn’t dare bring up how he was progressing, “Is there anything I can assist you with? I haven’t anything to do until much later.”

Stan shook his head, swallowing a mouthful of food before he also checked out his shop. His posture was deplorable, hands leaving dirt on the food he was eating, and his table manners were seemingly not existent. He always chokes on how much food he was trying to stuff down so he can get back to work sooner. Kyle smiled as he watched his friend, though he remembered at one point he strictly refused to eat with him until he didn’t behave in such a way.

Kyle recalled a dark night he came over during Stan’s dinner. He was invited to the table and given a plate of food. It wasn’t much, just what Wendy had brought before taking off again. Three rolls of bread and a few olives, but they ate in silence. It was odd, things seemed different, but then he noticed Stan’s stiff back, his near locked joints as he tore off bits of bread and ate them instead of ripping into the roll with his teeth. At first, he was pleased that he was listened to, but his thoughts soon changed. 

“Stan?” Kyle called from across the table at the other. Stan’s brown eyes met him, staring patiently, waiting. Relenting, Kyle quietly mumbled, “You really don’t have to change because I have joined you for the meal… But if you start to choke, I’m not helping.”

If there was a way to capture an exact moment in time to keep forever, even if it was only once, he’d capture the big smile that crossed Stan’s lips. Kyle felt his cheeks burn a little as his friend stuffed the rest of the roll in his mouth. Moments later, he was choking on the bread and, against his own word, Kyle helped him.


	4. Something to Wow

Tweek sent the majority of his night rummaging through the old chests in the attic and basement of the relatively small house his guardian shared with him. There were some pretty neat things, but nothing that would wow Craig the same way his flowers had.

Token sat below the loft, stirring a cup of tea idly. He’d flinch at every loud bang, but relaxed once Tweek yelped out ‘I’m fine’. It was becoming late, yet the young god seemed to be relentlessly searching for something.

“Tweek? Is there something I can help you with?” He called. Moments later, Tweek’s head popped out from the railing, hanging himself upside down to get to view his guardian.

“I need to find something neat.”

“... Why?”

Tweek sighed in an exasperated way, waving a hand in the air, “It’s a lot to explain, but I made a friend and I want to show them something extraordinary.”

Token’s eyes widened, “A friend? Who?” 

Tweek’s face grew warm and he scratched the back of his neck. Pulling himself up, he sat on the wooden floor of the loft, “I don’t know him well, actually… But you can meet him later!”

The older god smiled to himself, happy knowing his son had made a friend. Sipping his tea, he hummed in thought, “Why don’t you make your friend a flower?”

“I’ve done that a thousand times now, and he thinks they are beautiful! I want to show him something new!” Tweek hopped down the stairs to Token. His mentor tapped his chin in thought, thinking of what he could possibly offer the god that could satisfy him. Their home was small, and they didn’t own anything that wasn’t essential or a gift. Nothing in the house could be perceived as unique enough to show off to another god.

Finally, an idea popped into Token’s head and he crossed the cabin to the door. Swinging the door open, he looked up to the sky, seeing the peak of Mt. Olympus on the darkened horizon. Token turned back to him and nodded his head, “Would you like to join me?”

 

It had been a long day to say the least. Draped over his chair like a king, Kenny sipped from his bottle, staring boredly around the circle of thrones. Karen was sitting beside the fire, poking and prodding it with a poker. Besides the two siblings, there was Butters, sitting down on the ground with his hands of his cheeks, brow ceased in frustration.   
Kenny hesitated to call the blonde over and assist him, but Butters stood up quickly and began ranting to the quiet gods as if they had urged him to, “I don’t get why Kyle and Craig are so difficult!”

“I can only imagine what you are going through,” Kenny mumbled and took a long swing of his wine. He knew if the subject involved either of those gods, it was always something he needed to be at least a little intoxicated in order to stand it. 

“I’m only the messenger, right?” Butters exclaimed, setting a hand over his heart, “I am meant to just get things places faster. But Kyle is acting like I’M the one who's holding resources instead of Craig. I don’t get it, why can’t he just give us a little more?”

Kenny slowly dropped his legs off one of his arm rests and took a better seated position, shrugging, “Kyle has to deal with Stan, it’s understandable he’d be stressed if the guy in charge of the operation is as well. And Craig’s just a dick.”

“Why though? What did we do to him?” Butters huffed, pouting as he kicked a small stone with his boot. It rolled across the room, but came to an abrupt stop as someone stepped on it, holding it still under their sandal. They all looked up. 

There stood Craig, face plain as always, but there was a certain tension held inside of him. His eyes were narrowed, lips pressed in a thin, straight line. Then, he spoke in a way calmer way than he looked, as if his expression was betraying him, “You guys took a ton of my gold, promised you’d pay back, then never did.”

“Yeah, but Cartman was in charge of that!” Kenny laughed, trying to seem more confident than he felt. He always was uneasy around the uptight god, but he had to put on an act for Karen. “It was your own fault for trusting him, but this is different.”

Craig blinked and the anger slowly dissipated, a bored look crossing his features as he glanced away, “Hardly.”

Silence took over the room and finally, Craig spoke up again, tone dull as always, “I need to speak with Cartman.”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with him.” Craig only shrugged and nodded, but didn’t repeat or explain himself. Butters finally entered the conversation, no longer startled from the sudden arrival of the god or his cold demeanor.

“He’s gone, likely checking in with Stan.”

“Yeah, speaking of which, you didn’t really mark many names. I appreciate you are helpin’ me out, but-” Kenny looked toward the god, only to see Craig was no longer there. 

“Yeah. Nice talk.”

 

Token opened the heavy door of the blacksmith’s home, the blast of warmth radiating from the fire coating his cold face in warmth. Still, he guided his freezing companion inside before letting the heavy door fall back into place behind him. Tweek rushed in, shivering madly as he rushed to the fire and took a seat. 

Stan was in the workshop, to Token’s delight. He rarely left. The burly god was leaned over his work table, slamming a large hammer down on a heated sword. The loud bangs caused Tweek to jump every so often, but it wasn’t long before Stan set the hammer down and glanced over his shoulder to them, “Oh, Kyle left?”

Despite the greeting, Token gave him a smile, “I would think so. We’ve only just arrived.”

Stan nodded, turning back to the sword. He grabbed at the handle of the hammer once more, then paused and looked back to the two gods, “What are you two doing here?”

“I wanted to ask if you had any of the weapons complete-”

“If that’s all, please leave,” An annoyed voice came from the door. Somehow, it seemed Kyle had managed to open the door without even making a sound. Token didn’t even know he could open it, being the scrawny god he was, “Stan is stressed enough and needs to focus on Cartman’s request. If you need anything, tell me or write it down for later. I can’t   
guarantee you it will be done anytime soon.”

Token’s smile dropped at the others snappy quip, but then relented and sighed out a little, “It isn’t anything I’m requesting he make, I just wished to know if he had any left over weapons, hopefully a bow and quiver of arrows. It doesn’t have to be particularly sturdy, it just needs to last a while.”

Stan nodded, scratching the back of his neck as he turned in his chair again. Tweek perked up at his guardians words, mind racing. A bow and arrows? That’d be something! Maybe Craig would find it interesting if Tweek could wield a weapon. The blonde beamed, now bouncing his leg in anticipation. 

“I don’t keep any of the weapons I make. They either are given to another god-” 

“Or they come into my possession,” Kyle finished, his eyes boring over the harvest god. Crossing his arms over his chest, the war god stood in thought for a moment, but then his gaze landed on Stan, who was watching him intently. 

Kyle clicked his tongue against his teeth and turned to the door, “I will take you to the vault.”

In silence, the three gods trekked down the mountain side. It was dark, nearly pitch black, and Tweek had to keep a firm grip on Token’s arm in order to not fall multiple times. Kyle, on the other hand, dodged rocks and holes easily, with the grace of someone who had travelled down the path for years every day. He barely made a noise besides the few sharp turns of his feet pivoting to make sure they were still following. 

Kyle lived in solitude. It was a bit of a walk from Stan’s home, but not as far as the ocean. His home was large, resembling a temple the mortals would erect for them. As he guided them inside, they realised how strange the building was. Winding paths and entrances that led to no where, but Kyle knew the place in and out. Tweek was just about going to get sick from dizziness as he tried to map out the home, but then they arrived at the true vault. 

“A bow and quiver of arrows?” Kyle repeated, putting a hand to one of the heavy, marble doors, “Any type?”

“We don’t need the best, but we’d prefer something that would be efficient.”

“What do you plan to kill?” Kyle pressed.

“Rabbits and small critters.” 

Kyle nodded, pushing the door open. The two gods in the hall managed to catch a glimpse of mounds of weaponry and armor. Red marks stained the marble floors inside and some of the glinting metal, but they were quickly blocked from view as Kyle stepped in the path, “Wait here, and don’t come in.”

He closed the marble door, leaving the two in the dimly lit room to wait. 

 

Craig stepped into the musky workshop quietly, letting the door down gently as to not startle the man working. Stan’s back was turned to him, but he still must have heard or sensed him from where he was poured the melted gold into a mold, “Kyle, you’re back already?”

“Not Kyle.” Stan glanced over and cursed under his breath, muttering something about how popular his workplace seemed to become that day. Though, it was said in a way that made it very obvious to Craig he didn’t appreciate the company he had been receiving. 

He didn’t stop to properly talk to the higher god, “I’m really busy, is it something urgent? If not, Kyle will be back…. I think. You can wait here, but I need to finish-”

“I am looking for Cartman,” Craig called over the sound of Stan’s heavy footsteps creaking against the floorboards as he tried his best to multitask, obviously not liking the attention on him as he worked. Craig quietly hoped that he wouldn’t be there much longer, understanding well how it was like to be stuck in idle chatter. Their situations were different, but he supposed they could both respect each other.

“Haven’t seen him all day.” Craig was starting to regret dotting Kenny’s name. 

“All day?”

“All day.” Stan laughed a little at the god’s incredulous tone, glancing up to meet his gaze, “What? Got beef with him? What’d he do?”

Craig shook his head, “I wanted to ask about a certain god I’ve only just met.”

Stan tensed a little and he raised his eyes to meet the others, a twitch of a frown crossing his face, “God of what?”

The older god shrugged his shoulders and he repeated his original question. There was something off about the conversation that Stan couldn’t quite grasp. It was likely because Craig never seemed to take interest in others, especially not gods. He always holed himself up in his caves and only assisted them when his peace was in danger. Then again, he was likely overthinking it. Thinking was not one of his strong suits by far, that’s Kyle’s job.

“Cartman… I’d expect he’s partying among the mortals then. He’ll be back sometime soon, back to his throne.” Stan reached for a dirtied towel on the wall and wiped his sweaty hands on one of the sides. “What does this god look like? It’s been awhile since you’ve been spending your time around us.”

“Fair skin,” Craig mumbled under his breath, picking at an invisible piece of grass on his shoulder, “golden hair, eyes like meadows after rain. A smile so radiant it rivals that of a god of beauty.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Stan hummed, expression softening as he sniffled, wiping a greasy finger across the side of his nose, “I hope you find the answers you are seeking for.”

“As do I, Stan.” And he disappeared into the shadows.

 

The next afternoon, Tweek was sitting on the hill, a wooden bow in his hands and a quiver to his side. The flowers blooming around him tickled his bare calves, making small giggles fall past his lips. They were a dark blue, something akin to the blue the other god wore along with his black, which was like the dotted design on the petals. The petals were hexagonal, but by far his most put together flower. 

“Have you been waiting long?” A gentle voice hummed from behind the young god. Tweek shook his head as he rose, turning to face his friend who stood just a few feet away. Inhaling the sickeningly sweet aroma of the flowers, Craig tugged down the dark cloth covering his face and let it rest around his neck.

“No! Not at all. Actually… I was kind of thinking you weren’t going to come at all,” Tweek responded, voice dropping to a lower volume as he confessed his fear, but he quickly perked up to not frighten the god, “I didn’t mean to s-startle you yesterday.”

“I was caught off guard is all…” Craig shifted his feet uncomfortably, taking a small step forward. He raised a gloved hand and pointed to the bow in Tweek’s twitching hand. The boy jumped in response. Tweek held up the bow and beamed, grabbing the quiver at his feet.

“Oh! This is what I wanted to show you! Neat, right?” Tweek asked, holding the bow out to the god. Craig examined it from where he stood, leaning forward only a little, but he made no attempt to grab the bow. Tweek was glad to see the others interest until Craig asked him the one question he had been dreading. Too bad he was procrastinating and never actually bothered to fix the problem before he really did hit him in the face. 

“I don’t know how to use it yet. I’m going to learn!” Tweek exclaimed, hoping Craig didn’t think he was stupid for bringing something he couldn’t even show the full potential of.   
The god nodded his head, humming under his breath as he looked over the clearing. His hum was a nice sound, slightly crackling in his throat and clipping the melody in the song. Obviously not a god of music, but it wasn’t all bad. 

Craig slowly took off the fabric pooling at his throat to give himself more movement. It was the first time Tweek ever saw so much of his skin, his arms now fully uncovered. They were so pale, it made him look sickly compared to the mortals and other gods he saw. Craig took out his gloves from the bundles of layers and pulled them on tight. They looked like dark bandages tangling between his fingers. Tweek stared, eyes trailing over the god as Craig held his hands up, beginning to act out the movements.

“Like this,” Craig mumbled, outstretching his hand to the ground. Suddenly, his shadow, which laid to his side, popped off the ground and into his hand, creating a makeshift bow and arrow. Tweek watched in fascination as the god drew the bow back with the arrow, holding it close to him before he set it back towards the ground and brought the string back. 

Tweek followed his lead, taking his bow in his right hand and grabbing an arrow with his other hand. He drew back the string, holding it up. Craig released his own bow, the shadows sinking back into the ground as he walked over. Gingerly, he nudged the blondes hand with his glove, guiding it up to become perpendicular to the ground. Tweek tensed, hands beginning to tremble as the god before him examined him critically. 

“Don’t hold your bow so far away. Relax.” Tweek nodded and followed the others order. He bend his elbows to bring the bow closer, but Craig still didn’t seem pleased with his attempt. 

He stepped closer to the god as he slowly nudged the arrow down to Tweek’s thumb joint. Tweek’s breath got caught in his throat and he quickly stepped back, “I-I don’t want to shoot it! It’s going to hurt!”

“If you want to draw it back without a shot, turn to the ground, hold it to the side a little and gently bring the string down.” 

Tweek shook his head quickly, chest rising and falling quickly as he clutched the bow, afraid to let go or to listen. Craig noticed the change in the younger gods demeanor and stepped toward him, resting a hand on the wooden bow, just below Tweek’s wobbling fist. His shadows morphed up once more and consumed both of Tweek’s hand, and soon he could find he couldn’t pull away. They were holding him there, but they were weightless. 

His hands moved at their own accord, doing everything with careful precision. Once the arrow was removed, the shadows pulled away. Finally, Tweek could breath. He dropped the bow without warning between them. Who knew wielding a weapon would be this stressful?

“Never again.” 

“Never said you had to,” Craig responded, poking the bow with his feet, but his face remained indifferent to the others claim, “I didn’t really see you as one to be a fighter anyway.”

Tweek’s cheek flushed slightly in embarrassment. Had Craig known from the beginning that he couldn’t bring himself to do it? That he didn’t even know how to use one, much less seen someone else doing it? With a small pout, he met his eyes with the older god, “What does that mean? I could do it if I wanted to.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Craig stated calmly, “I just wouldn’t expect to see you near any battlefield. You aren’t like those other gods.”

He wasn’t certain if that was a compliment or not, so Tweek just changed his sights to the shadows hovering in the air behind Craig. Cautiously, he extended a hand out to touch one. Craig’s eyes widened at the sudden movement and he darted back. Tweek jumped as well, bringing his hand back to his chest, “I-I’m sorry! It’s just… your shadows, they move like that to their own accord?”

“...Not on their own. I can control them. I have control over all shadows.” 

“Even mine?” Tweek asked curiously, but Craig dismissed the idea. 

“Yes, but I’ve found that messing with the shadows of the other gods or mortals harms them. It is akin to having your soul ripped from your body… or so I’ve been told,” Craig coughed. 

“But doesn’t it hurt you now?” Tweek tilted his head. There was no response. He made his way to Craig and reached out again. This time, a shadow came up and crawled along his knuckles. The sensation was unlike any he ever felt, but the closest he could think of is when his skin crawls. It wasn’t the worst feeling, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant. He shivered, drawing his hand away briefly, sending Craig a wide smile, “I never knew there were gods who could do that. That’s amazing.” 

The sheer awe in the others voice caused Craig’s cheeks to flush a dusty pink, nodding numbly back. He didn’t notice the younger god’s fingers inching toward his arm, only looking down to see a peculiar sight. Thin vines were up to their knees below them, clustering with small white and pink flowers. As all of the young gods flowers were, they were extraordinary. 

Tweek followed the others gaze down to their feet, only then noticing the vines wrapping and clinging to them. He didn’t dawdle over how long they had been there, quickly snatching his hand back and forcing his feet from the bundle. The moment he left, they began to die and wither around Craig’s feet. 

It was a shame. They had to be the best flowers Tweek had ever made. The petals were rounded and the perfect color, but now they were gone. Part of him wished he could have picked one and brought it home to show Token. Another part wondered how he could have grown something so pretty without even trying. 

His friend broke through the weakened, ash colored vines and sighed down at the dead plant. He glanced up apologetically to the plant god, but before he could try to explain himself or get out of the situation, he was frozen in place. Tweek was staring in astonishment at his art, eyes brighter than they had ever been. His smile was even more blinding and it made Craig wonder how such a god could exist. He didn't even snap out of his thoughts until he felt the god step forward, hugging him tightly. A sinking feeling of dread filled the older god, but Tweek's smile didn't wade, even upon feeling Craig's freezing skin. 

Things can never be this simple. Craig felt Tweek’s warm skin against his own as the boy beamed at him and he bristled. He shoved the boy off and away, causing him to nearly fall to the ground by the sudden force, “Don’t touch me!” 

Tweek stared back at him incredulously, unable to understand the sudden change in the atmosphere as Craig continued, “Check your arms.”

“H-Huh?” 

“Do it!” Tweek jumped, eyes like saucers as he looked over his arms. Nothing. He didn’t understand, panic seeping into his system. He loved his new friend, but it drove him insane trying to remember his deal with touch. Token and the others loved to give him hugs, or they’d ruffle his hair when they were pleased, but not Craig. He seemed to despise the idea of having any physical contact with Tweek, which was something Tweek always strived for in every relationship. He was a touchy person. 

He showed the god before him, who was reaching down, eyes locked on Tweek as he grabbed for his extra garment. He paused as the other held out his arms. Not a single mark was on the arms, save for a few small freckles dotted over the pink skin. Craig retracted his hand and slowly brought it to his chest. Not breaking his gaze, he tugged off a single glove. His slender, pale hand clenched into a fist and he placed the glove in his other hand. 

Craig reached forward, and Tweek, though still scared, met him halfway and pressed his own hand against the cold one before him. Silence filled the space between them as Craig pulled away, examining Tweek’s hand. To his shock, not a trace of black soot was left. 

“I can’t remember a time I have touched another god,” He whispered quietly, pressing his hand back against the others. Tweek remained quiet. Craig pulled his hand back once more to check once more to see if everything was fine, “If I wished, I could kill off all the life on this hill. Just the brush of my hand can kill even the strongest of mortals. And yet, you remain safe and… warm.”

“And you are cold,” Tweek replied back, uncertain of what he was hearing. Craig raised his dark eyes to bore into the others, then he cracked a small smile. It was nearly humorless, but the gesture itself was enough to put the younger god at ease, moving his fingers to lace with Craig’s. The two stayed like that for a few moments, then the silently sat down again at the hill, far from the bow covered in dead flowers. 

Without trying to, flowers began to pool around them and their laced fingers. Tweek didn’t think of how Token’s flowers grew, or the proper way to use his abilities. It all happened naturally, and because of it, the flowers came out even prettier than the ones he made earlier. Craig observed the plants and hummed to himself, “Stunning.”

Tweek blushed a little at the comment, but tensed upon hearing the sudden yell of his name through the trees. Craig looked to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion over the others sudden tension. The flowers ceased growing and Tweek stumbled to his feet, letting go of Craig’s hand. 

“I h-have to go, I’m being called!” Tweek hurriedly said, knowing Craig probably couldn’t hear Token’s worried tone traveling through the vast forest. The god merely nodded. Tweek smiled one last time before waving goodbye, “I’ll meet you here again tomorrow!”

Tweek took off into the brush, heading back home.


	5. Only Bad News From Here to Forever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected visitor comes to fuck shit up. Never open your door at an ungodly hour, it isn't worth it.

When Tweek arrived at his guardian’s fields, he could see the older god standing in the center, hands clasped to his chest as he sent out waves of his apprentice’s name. His head snapped up as he heard the soft cracks of slim twigs on the ground and his dark eyes met Tweek’s, “You took longer than usual.”

“I-I was heading here as, gah, f-fast as I could!” Tweek admitted, jogging over to his mentor. Token nodded his head, turning back to their shack across the field. The two made there way over as the sun began to fall, the looming shadows from the forest stretching farther over the crops. The thought made Tweek smile a little, the shadows reminding him of his friend and the strange way his shadows moved, like the swaying reeds from the small ponds he used to frequent.

Inside, the two sat down and ate peacefully. There wasn’t much to discuss, seeing as Token never took too much interest in Tweek’s excursions and Tweek grew bored of listening to idle brattle about the weather in mere seconds. This meal wouldn’t go smoothly as usual though, that much being apparent when a sudden, thunderous knocking came from the door. Token had jumped, nearly dropping his cup in shock.

“A visitor? At this hour?” Tweek watched as Token set his cup down on the table and stood. With a faint hint of a frown, Token send a look to his apprentice that said ‘don’t ever be this type of person’. It was understandable. The only reason to knock on someone's door at this hour was because of grave danger or the need of sugar. 

Token opened the door. Standing right outside was the king of gods himself, Cartman, standing as tall as he could for being rather short compared to the harvest god. Tweek, as always, envied his master for having the guts to stare the powerful god in the eyes and say, “We are in the middle of dinner. What do you want?”

Though his tone spoke clearly that he’d rather the man come back in the morning, Cartman took it as an invitation inside. The large god stepped into the cozy shack, heading to the table with a hum as he picked up a roll. Tweek stared wordlessly at Cartman, uncertain how to react or what to say. 

Token didn’t seem to either, disgusted by his blatant act of disrespect, “As I said, we are busy. Leave and come back in the morning if it’s so important you had to be here yourself.”

“I have grave news actually, so no,” Cartman huffed, rolling the bread around in his grubby fingers. Tweek scooted further away from him.

“If you have grave news, then say it.” Token crossed his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised in impatience. Cartman nodded and took a step closer to Tweek, settling a greasy hand down on his shoulder. The younger god bristled, flinching at the intense warmness of the others sweaty hand. It was so unlike Craig’s, which were always so cold and stiff. Instead, this hand just seemed to sink into his skin uncomfortably. It took all of his strength to not bat his hand away, possibly upsetting the god. 

“Your apprentice has been getting himself into a world of trouble.” Token’s expression shifted quickly from annoyance to apologetic. 

“What has happened? Has he been trespassing to another's home? Picked a fight with-”

“I assure you that nothing you can guess is even close to what has been happening. It is indefinately worse.” 

Token frowned, looking to Tweek for answers, but he could provide none. He hadn’t realised he had done anything wrong. In fact, since he met Craig, he has been very good. Cartman took the silence as a gesture to continue, “He has been meeting in secret with Craig.”

“... Craig?” Token breathed out, shaking his head as he stepped back, “No. That isn’t true. He isn’t allowed on our acres and he only comes in winter, not the beginning of summer. You are mistaken. Tweek doesn’t even talk to strangers.”

“What’s wrong with Craig?” Tweek spoke up, tilting his head. The two higher gods saw the innocence clearly in his eyes and Token faltered. It had been true what Cartman was telling him. Craig, the god of death, had been staying around Tweek when he wasn’t there to watch after him. 

Smiling smugly, the king of gods took a bite of the bread roll in his hand and then headed ot the door. He left without another word. Unfortunately, the tension didn’t leave with him, as Token couldn’t stop staring at his apprentice incredulously. There was finally something worthy of talking about at the dinner table. 

“What’s wrong w-with Craig?” Tweek repeated nervously, his fingers twitching as he fiddled with the ends of his tunic. 

“Do you know who Craig is?” Token asked, eyes drifting to the ground as he wondered how such an event could occur. He had thought Tweek would have more sense than to fraternize with such a dreary, cold god.

Tweek nodded his head and said no more. Token wasn’t sure if he really wanted to know more. He knew he had to protect his young student, but he didn’t know how he’d handle all the new information. Minutes passed before he took his seat and asked his apprentice to tell him all about Craig and him. The whole time, he sat, sometimes tearing his bread a bit too aggressively to be considered normal.

“I-I mean… I first met him as he was looking at my flowers in the woods and then we became friends…. Kinda. It’s not official, but I want it to be… Gah, I uh, he taught me how to use the bow- a little. I was too afraid to shoot, but he was understanding and calmed me down and we… He’s very nice to me. It’s like… he gets it?”

“Gets what?” Token grumbled, hand clenching into a ball.

Tweek’s eyebrows furrows as he dragged his gaze to his lap, “I’m… n-not sure? When we are together, I just feel so happy… things seem okay? Like, everything I was afraid of is replaced with the courage to try. Gah, erm, t-that doesn’t make sense, does it?”

“It doesn’t,” Token replied shortly, “Tweek, you are still young and don’t understand much of anything, which is why you wouldn’t be able to fathom how I’m protecting you now.”

“What?”

“Tweek, you are no longer allowed to leave my sight. You are not to see Craig again.” The room was quiet once more after the screeching of one chair being pushed back hard against the wood sounded through the room followed by fast footsteps. A door was slammed shut once more, the last time one would be abused in the house that night. 

 

A meeting was held that night. Though Kyle stared with disinterest at the flames, chin propped up with an arm resting on his throne, he couldn’t help, but notice something was off. Many of the gods were missing, which made sense since the meeting was called so suddenly.

Cartman sat at the head of the group as usual, scanning over the god. Token was missing. In fact, only Heidi, Cartman, Kenny, Karen, Butters and Kyle were there. Suddenly, the god of war wondered if he should have just stayed at home like Stan did, especially since the event would likely end in hell with Cartman and Heidi at each other's throats. Glancing to Kenny, he watched as the god took a long sip of wine. He had to admit that drinking before a meeting was a good idea. If only he wasn’t expected to be the voice of reason for this session.

“Okay, so guys, I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” Cartman began, his eyes scanning over the others. Clasping his grubby hands before him, he bowed his head, “I think it’s about time we get a new god of death going.”

“What? Why would we need another?” Kenny asked, slowly putting his goblet down, eyes wide and curious. It seemed he wasn’t drunk enough to be in his ‘agree-with-anything’ state.

Cartman shook his head, “No, I mean like, get rid of Craig and give the power to someone else.”

Kyle was the first to speak up, slamming his hand down. His glare was strong enough to kill a man and they were locked on Cartman, “New gods come and go as they are found upon, but you can’t just do away with Craig! You two are a part of the three holding the power at a standstill. Did you seriously think we’d ever consider such a thing?”

“Oh calm down, you brute,” Cartman grumbled dismissively, “the position would be up for grabs to anyone who wants it. I wasn’t going to just take all the power for myself. How selfish do you think I am?”

“We’d fight then!” Kyle hissed, causing a few other gods to nod wordlessly, refusing to meet either gods eyes. 

Cartman stood. With a raise of his hand, he silenced the court. As Kyle’s green eyes flickered around, he realised that all the gods beside him didn’t seem too keen on getting involved. And finally, the fatass spoke in his infamous I’m-higher-than-you voice, “I think I should tell you all of what Craig has been doing as of late.”

Everyone waited with bated breaths as the brunette continued, “As everyone may have noticed, the harvest god Token could not be here. He is the only other one who knows this… And though he wanted this kept quiet for a while longer, I have no choice… Craig has been taking advantage of and threatening our precious little god of flowers, Twinkle.”

“Tweek,” Butters corrected.

“Yeah that.”

Kyle stared at the other, but he couldn’t think of anything to say. Instead, he stood up from his throne and began to walk out. The god of gods called after him, “Where do you think you are going?”

“None of your business,” Kyle shot back, “Just know I will conduct a proper investigation, and I suggest you all look into things yourself and not take his claim at face value. Something is wrong here.”

As the fiery god stormed from the gathering, Butters hesitated in whether to follow after him, or continue to stand beside the king of god’s throne, guilt welling within him. 

 

Craig was not pleased when he arrived in his home to see Kyle there, once again, kneeling down and holding his hand out to a small shadow beast. The moment the beast caught it’s master in sight, it leapt over in a wonky way and then melted into his shadow. The god of death slowly raised his head to meet the war gods eye as he stood up straight.

“Where were you?” Kyle asked. “You always seem to be gone whenever I need you.”

“There is a point to that,” Craig mumbled. Kyle only rolled his eyes, dusting himself off.

“You haven’t been spending time in the surface with a minor nature god? The apprentice to the god of harvest?”

“I have.” Kyle’s brow twitched at the blunt answer, knowing that though he was on Craig’s side (albeit barely), it would be hard to disprove something the man was very willing to say without a second thought. Had he really no sense of self preservation? If he’d say it to any other god, he could only imagine the chaos that would ensue. However, he’d like to believe he was a very well put together individual. 

“I guess I should fill you in on the obvious. Cartman found out and now wants you gone. So, I’m here to help you to prevent chaos.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be all for wars breaking out?” Craig asked, moving past him to head to the main throne room. Kyle followed, placing a hand on a wall to feel the material as he walked. Upon placing his hand on the walls, inky residue soiled his skin and he grimaced. With no other option, he wiped it on his robe, scowling the whole time.

“I don’t favor the odds of this war. It’d be us against every other god.”

“Why would you help?”

Kyle didn’t answer. He wanted to, but fate suddenly wasn’t working with him well after hearing Craig’s response. The words triggered an event of the future. There was suddenly a flash before his eyes and he entered another vision. His green eyes glazed over and his footsteps ceased. The god of death had noticed the thunderous steps echoing had been muted, but he didn’t turn. He simply stopped and waited. Minutes later, Kyle mumbled out, “Sorry, I’ve forgotten what was said.”

“It wasn’t of any importance,” Craig promised, adjusting the cloth pooled at his neck. Shaking his head, Kyle tried to get a hold of himself completely, soon managing to stand tall once more, “Cartman can say what he wishes, I won’t be swayed from doing what pleases me.”

“I thought you’d say that. And that’s also another reason I have come. Cartman told Token. In other words, Tweek won’t ever be out of his sight again after hearing you both were meeting in secret.” This caused Craig to pause. His shadows started to bubble at his feet, though his expression was a mystery. Finally, he tugged the cloth from his neck back past his nose. His eyes flickered to the side, knowing full well that Token only felt annoyance and anger toward him. Most gods only held resentment for him if only for the fact that he didn’t spent his days surrounded by a lively crowd. 

Craig had hoped the day wouldn’t come where he’d have to be separated from Tweek. Everything he ever liked typically died or eventually couldn’t bare all the death, not that he blamed them. He never thought he’d be able to control the spread of death, but then he met Tweek. The one who was strong enough to prevent his power from plaguing the flowers. And when he hugged him, flowers dared to cover his feet. They were so beautiful. 

And yet again, he’d have to deal with a source of joy in his life whisked away from his presence. And what for? A lot he didn’t even want, but was forced into? 

“I won’t let Token stop me if I want to see him.” He knew it wasn’t the wisest statement to make, but he could only imagine either arriving to their hill to find it black and barren or finding a bright green hill. Long, oddly proportioned flowers sprouting everywhere, and in the center, a beautiful smiling god. There was a black and white flower sticking from behind his ear, hand outstretched for Craig. Even the thought of their hands touching made Craig feel warm and clammy. 

No matter what, Craig knew that this would not be the last day he’d see flowers on their hill. But if what Kyle was saying was true, and he really was siding with him, then the sooner he saw Tweek would be the better. If the flower god even wanted to see him anymore, which he doubted was the case. He couldn’t have been the only one who enjoyed their time together and the feeling that came along with his companion.

“What are you thinking?” Kyle asked, tilting his head.

“I have to find Tweek,” Craig replied uncertainly. 

The war god nodded, “That’s a good start… probably. You only need to make sure you aren’t seen, can you manage?”

“... Yes?” 

“You don’t sound confident.” 

“I’m not.” Craig shrugged. “If Token isn’t allowing Tweek to leave his sights, there isn’t a chance I’ll have to talk to him.”

Kyle nodded in understandment, “Then, there’s two things that can be done to ensure our success.”

“Which… are?”

 

It had been a long time since Stan left his workshop, but weapons had been piling at the door and he was starved. He had waited as long as he could for Kyle to come and take care of the duties he claimed daily, but this time the god had been gone a little too long. It worried Stan. So, he loaded up his cart with weapons to deliver and headed up the mountain, in hopes of finding Kyle along the way with a basket full of food and that warm smile.

This wasn’t the case. The journey up the mountain was tiring and unrewarding, seeing as the only ones at the top of the mountain were Kenny, Butters and Karen. Stan tried to hide his disappointment, dropping his wagon off just outside the circle of thrones. He wiped the sweat from his brow before beginning to unload.

“Got anything for me there?” Kenny asked casually, swirling around wine in his goblet. The lazy god hadn’t even bothered to walk over and check the list himself. The list.  
Stan gasped as he patted down his pockets quickly, but it was fruitless. He had left the list in his workshop and he didn’t take into memory what everyone asked for. Not only that, but he knew that the gods would take more than they ordered if they had a chance to sneak it. 

Turning to the youngest of the three before him, Stan knelt down and asked Karen nicely, “Hey, if I leave my cart here, can you make sure no one takes anything?”  
Karen’s innocent expression slowly shifted as she picked up a poker that had been laying in the flames. In a way that could only be referred to as menacingly, she tapped the red hot metal on the ground, leaving a dark burn, “No one will touch it.”

“Thanks, little one!” Stan smiled and ruffled up her hair before beginning his long journey down the mountain once more. How had Kyle managed to do this so many times a day on average? Especially since he lived so far too?

Should Stan visit his home? Had he promised to visit him, but merely forgotten due to his workload? Stan grumbled to himself, his legs already feeling weak and his breathing was labored, but he knew it was only right to go find his friend. Karen was watching the cart, so if it took him a bit longer than expected, it wouldn’t be devastating.  
Friends are the only type of people you should ever come down a steep mountain to bring back up with you, it seemed. 

Hours had passed. Or thirty minutes. Somewhere in the mix, Kyle’s home came into view. His residence was a shrine erected in his honor, purposely made with winding halls and hidden chambers as a large thank you and for simulation for his intelligence, no doubt about it. He remembered how for a full month, Kyle would run up the mountain to talk to him about a new secret he discovered or some cool offerings he received.

Stan had never received offerings, but Kyle would always share the food or trinket he was gifted. In fact, there was a shelf of gifts Kyle brought in his workshop to keep the two entertained on quiet nights. 

A smile made it’s way to Stan, but it faded when he reached the front of Kyle’s home. Cupping the sides of his face, he called out for his friend, hoping he wouldn’t have to go inside the laborious maze. 

There was no response, much to his dismay. 

 

Underneath the full moon, two gods travelled in silence. Though the light of the moon shone down upon their path, one couldn’t help, but stumble over his robes every minute. Kyle huffed from under the heavy, dark coat he had been lent, wishing he could bring a hand up to let down the hood, but that would only expose his true identity. Even trying to move some of his curly locks from his face would show off his freckled covered arm, a distinct trait that would be linked to him immediately. He knew it wasn’t he who had to be careful of being exposed, but he felt like being supportive by looking ridiculous along with Craig. 

Meanwhile, the taller god beside him wasn’t having much of a field day either. His head was bowed as he sulked at losing the robes he wore daily, yet another recognizable feature of his. Instead, he was wearing a traditional white tunic, a blood red drape across one shoulder. Exposed like this, he could clearly see his faded war scars from long ago and the blue tint to his hands, nails already purple from being naturally cold. 

They were a strange looking pair, but according to Kyle, this was the best way to get to see his friend again. 1. Dress in a disguise, or at least something that isn’t pitch black. 2. Have someone along with him to create a distraction. 

Kyle headed to the door alone as the god of death stayed by the edge of the woods. Then, with a shaky breath, Kyle knocked on the door.  
When Token opened the door, his eyes first flared with anger at the sight of a darkly dressed god at his door… until he realized the god was way too short to be Craig, “What are you doing here?”


	6. A Journey At Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the short chapter. I didn't even feel it was right to add the first chunk.

A small cup sat in his palm filled with lavender tea. As he swirled the cup around, he couldn’t help but wonder if Stan was sitting in his workshop alone, nursing his own cup of tea. Kyle didn’t even know if he knew how to make tea. With a small sigh, Kyle took a sip and hoped he’d be able to see him again soon when all of the fuss disappeared, “Token, I heard some news earlier-”

“About Tweek?” He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Of course, why didn’t I expect Cartman to blurt things out like this.”

Kyle nodded, “He brought it up at a meeting… I wanted to know your thoughts about all of this. I saw how everyone reacted, but I want to know how you feel. Though, I can tell you must be very tired.”

“That I am. It seems there is an endless supply of gods on my property tonight.” He didn’t even know the half of it. Kyle suppressed the smile wanting to shine on his cheeks and instead hid it with his hand as he coughed daintily. 

Token’s dark eyes set on the small god with a glare, “How I feel? How do you think I feel? Tweek is confused and was trying to find solace where he couldn’t. And he claimed they were friends.”

Token scuffed to himself as he began to pace, wishing he would bring himself to run over and throw Tweek’s door open. He had given him space once, yet was betrayed by his young mentee wanting to consort with his enemy. It was down right painful knowing that Tweek’s strings had been twisted around the ruler of death as he played him like a puppet. Who knows what Craig had done to him or what he wanted to do? The thought alone made Token grind his teeth.

Tweek was young and dumb, as was he as a child. He knew his student could hate him. Perhaps never wished to speak to him again. Still, it’ll be a sunny day in the underworld when Token allows Tweek to see Craig again.

 

Within minutes of Token’s sudden announcement, Tweek’s room was covered in vines layered heavily with thorns. There was barely an inch of ground not covered by the painful spikes. They even grew to his door, where they were tangled in a huge knot as to not allow anyone inside. He wanted to be alone.

That statement wasn’t too close to the truth, but there was just the high odds of seeing someone he didn’t want to see that kept him from retracting the vines growing by his fingertips. He knew deep down Token always looked out for him, but to try and take away his only friend he ever cared for? Tweek wouldn’t stand for it. He wasn’t even standing for it now; he was laying face down on his bed, sniffling uncontrollably to stop tears from rolling down his cheeks.

He just didn’t get it and according to Token, he never would. Rubbing his nose with the back of his hand, he muttered pitifully to himself, “I’m never going to see him again. Ever. It’s done…. I already miss him..”

His eyes began to well up again as he thought even more about what had happened. It was almost impossible to think of going back to living like he had when he was younger. Back in those days, he had been forced to follow Token everywhere and not stray even fifteen feet from him before his mentor would come rushing to him, fearful he’d get hurt. It took a lot of convincing to lengthen his lease by even a smudge, but now Tweek was certain he’d never get to run through the woods again. 

Imaging sitting in the fields under the blistering heat all day with his quiet teacher is enough to drive him insane. Slowly coming into a sitting position on his bed, he stared down at the wet stains on his pillow as he wiped his eyes. 

“Why do you weep?” 

It came from the depths of the dark room, somewhere beyond the thorns. Tweek’s breath got caught in his throat and he waited to hear it once more. He needed to know it was real and not his imagination of sounds outside his own whining. 

“Are you there?” Tweek whispered through a hiccup, eyes trying to adjust to the darkness to spot his friend.

“Not here, not really,” Craig responded gently, “I control the shadows, remember? I have been told… what happened. If you want, you may step through the shadows here and you will be outside with me. Would you like to do that?”

Tweek didn’t hesitate to stand up, but wavered as he stared into the darkness. The memory of the shadowy tendrils slithering over his hand made his skin pinprick and his confidence waver.

“I-Is it going to hurt?”

“It will feel strange, but I will be here to catch you.” There was sincerity in his voice. Scared, the young god stepped forward into the shadows. In that moment, the shadows were set upon him. Though they were weightless, they spilled into his throat and enveloped his whole body. He couldn’t scream for help. 

Luckily, seconds later the shadows dispersed and he found himself in the arms of the god he missed so much. He desperately swallowed a mouthful of air, the feeling remaining of shadows trickling into his lungs. 

“I’m sorry,” Craig hummed lowly as he stooped down and rested the boy on the ground. He kept Tweek’s head pressed to his chest as his hand ran through the boys tangled hair, attempting to calm him, “Shadow travel is hard to get a grasp on, but you do not need to do it again if you aren’t comfortable.”

“If i-it means I can see you again, I will do it again and again,” Tweek mumbled quietly, hand reaching for Craig’s unoccupied one to hold. The cold god allowed him to. Unfortunately, Tweek wasn’t allowed to stay there long. Craig had plans, and they didn’t involve staying in plain sight for the harvest god to find them.

Craig led the boy through the woods, heading to their hill. Tweek knew the route by heart, but was glad he wasn’t expected to guide the pair since he still wasn’t feeling right from the shadows. How did Craig manage to ever get used to that? 

They sat down at the top of the hill side by side upon arriving. Tweek lazily dropped his head onto Craig’s shoulder before placing a hand to the earth, forcing bunches of flowers to grow around them.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” Tweek answered, “they make you happy, right?”

“They do,” Craig hummed lowly, “but along with that… I’m sure you know, your sadness is blatant. But why?”

Tweek blinked slowly, “... Why was I sad?”

The god nodded his head, patiently waiting for the flower god to respond. Taking his hand from the ground, Tweek managed to pull his head away from the other to send him a weird look, “My mentor said I wasn’t allowed to see you again. I thought I would never have a chance to… do any of this again… It’s… I-It’s one thing to know when the last time of doing something that means so much will occur… But it is much worse to know that the last time had passed and you hadn’t taken it for all it could be.”

“I… felt the same when I had heard,” Craig admitted awkwardly. His answer made Tweek smile a little, turning to look at the night sky, “it’s in my hopes that this won’t be the last time either. I promise… as long as it is okay, that I will take you away and to this, our place, every night I can.”

Tweek hummed at the thought, nodding his head in agreement. They sat in silence, but it wasn’t a bad one, like the nightly one at the dinner table. It was calm, both gods beside each other, one pair of hands interlocked and a smile on both their faces. Neither had noticed how no flowers around them withered. 

“I don’t know lots of things,” Tweek finally spoke up. It was a whisper in the great everything before them, from the twinkling stars in the sky and everything else that could be out of sight. It made them feel small, yet safe, “but I believe and hope a lot. And if that helps at all, through my faith, I bet that nothing will ever keep us apart.”

Craig wasn’t sure how to answer, which was fine with Tweek, “Besides, I’d miss you too much if you were gone for long.”

“As would I.” 

It was late when they began their journey back to the shack. The lights had been long since blown out, but since Tweek hadn’t heard his name through the trees, he had guessed that Token hadn’t bothered to forced his door open to check on him. Craig led him across the fields and to the young god’s window. Tweek frowned at the window, though he knew it was better than shadow travel. 

“How polite, walking me to my window and all…”

“I don’t want to shadow travel with you into your room and be stabbed with fifty thorns in the process.”

“Was that the reason you didn’t come inside earlier?”

“What do you think?” Though his voice sounded lifeless, Tweek could sense a bit of humor behind it and it made him beam. Craig cracked a smile before beginning to turn away to head into the shadows of the forest once more. It seemed the night was coming to a close, but it wasn’t done quite yet. Not if Tweek could help it.

“... Remember what I said?” Tweek called out, a bit too loudly to match their previous stealthy actions. Even Craig noticed the change in volume, jumping a little before whipping around to tell him to be quieter. Tweek, however, ignored the advice and walked over to the god, huffing to himself.

“Remember what, Tweek? We’ve said much.” Craig’s eyes were now focused on the house behind Tweek, trying to detect any stir from inside. The lack of attention wasn’t Tweek’s favorite thing, but he knew it would actually help to have those dark, sharp eyes off his for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, Tweek looked up to the god, hands clenched into fists as he blurted out, “I’m not taking any chances w-with this. When I found out last time was the last time I’d see you, I couldn’t bear it. There’s… I’m not l-leaving any room for regrets anymore.”

Craig finally turned back to face his companion, shocked at the passion and wiseness in the others words. Tweek stared back, cheeks slowly heating up under Craig’s gaze. He wanted to suddenly go back on his words, but he knew he couldn’t. He didn’t want to. 

Tweek took a swift step forward, leaning up and kissed Craig’s cheek. Not one to take too big of chances, Tweek turned quickly and climbed through his window, calling back, “S-See you another night-!” 

Craig stood stock still, a faint blush gracing over his cheeks as he stared toward where the god had disappeared off to. In the meantime, Tweek had pressed himself against his wall, holding his chest to attempt to calm down his own rapid heartbeat. 

Slowly, Craig raised a hand to send a little wave to the window before snapping from his reverie to fully realise Tweek had left after what he had done. He gently pressed his hand to his cheek and smiled. As he turned to head off, he happened to look down only to see his feet up to his knees nearly covered completely with small red and pink flowers. None died, even as the god wrestled his way from their constricting vines.

**Author's Note:**

> Here are what everyone is compared to the greek god. Most of these won't be relevant, but I thought it would be nice to know...  
> Zeus- Cartman  
> Hera- Heidi  
> Poseidon- PC Principal  
> Hades- Craig  
> Persephone- Tweek  
> Demeter- Token  
> Apollo- Clyde  
> Artemis- Strong woman  
> Hestia- Karen  
> Aphrodite- Wendy  
> Ares/Athena- Kyle  
> Hephaestus- Stan  
> Dionysus- Kenny  
> Hermes- Butters


End file.
